


Ribbons

by AdikaOfMandalore



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din and reader are married, Din is old and grumpy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Helmetless Din Djarin, Hinted talk about spicy times, Spoilers, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdikaOfMandalore/pseuds/AdikaOfMandalore
Summary: «Din! – you all but screech, pressing your face further against his biceps, the sleeve of his dark shirt soft and fresh on your scalding skin. – Not in front of the kid!»«He’s heard worse.»
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Everyone
Kudos: 31





	Ribbons

«What are you two up to, now?»

«Maker, Din! – you squeal, pressing a hand on your chest, heart drumming furiously under your fingers. – You scared the kriff out of me! Stop sneaking around like that!» Grogu, sitting over your crossed legs, giggles at your outraged tone, despite his starry black eyes still focused on the ribbons between his tiny claws, all business. You’ve been wrapping up presents for the past hour, now, your son picking out the papers and satin strips for you with such care and solemnity that you can’t help the fond smile whenever you look down at him.

«You should be more aware of your surroundings» Din lets you know, descending the last two steps of the metal ladder to join you in front of your shared, unbelievably narrow, bunk, where you’re currently sitting in, a pile of already wrapped up presents on the “mattress” behind you, a bunch of bare, brown boxes waiting by your side. 

Crouching down on the floor in front of your knees, he silently helps your kid disentangle his yellowish talons from a red ribbon, lips pressed thinly together to try to hide a smile, but you see right through it and, one arm coming to rest around your son’s middle to prevent him from falling over, you bend down and smooth a few shower-damp, dark brown strands from your husband’s forehead, hair already curling in the warm, stuffed air of the cargo hold and tickling pleasantly your skin.

«We’re safe at home, no reason to worry for possible threats. Besides, that’s your job, Djarin» you remind him, fingers still lazily playing with his soft locks. He closes his eyes and tilts his head ever so slightly to rest his cheek in the cup of your hand, bottom lip jutting in a childish pout. He didn’t shave, so now his stubble rubs and pricks your palm, irritating in a familiar, welcome way.

«Sit with us and help with the presents? I don’t like to see you all alone on the floor.»

«Sure.» 

Minding the gifts at your side, you move around and press yourself against one wall of the bunk. Din barely has the time to take a sit next to you, shoulders brushing in the cramped up space, that the kid’s discarding the night blue ribbon he was playing with to move onto his lap.

«Traitor» you mutter under your breath, eyeing your precious son curling with a content sigh against his father’s chest.

«Jealous, Djarin?» he winks your way, letting Grogu play, fascinated, with his long, calloused fingers, his tiny claws following the intricate designs of black ink covering his right hand in its entirety. You scoff and lightly punch his shoulder, before resting your head on it and observing with fondness your little son in his lap.

«How many credits did you spend on all these presents, by the way?» he wonders out loud, picking one of the colourful bundles – this one with yellow stars on a pearl white background – with his free hand and studying it, one eyebrow eloquently raised in your direction. You look up and throw an innocent smile his way, before cuddling once again on his side.

«Don’t worry about that, Din dear.»

«Fuel’s expensive, these days, and the Crest uses quite a lot of it. You should save credits to help this big girl move.»

«Oh, shut it. You just get old and close-fisted.»

«”Old” is not what you were calling me last night. In fact, I quite recall you screaming-»

«Din! – you all but screech, pressing your face further against his biceps, the sleeve of his dark shirt soft and fresh on your scalding skin. – Not in front of the kid!»

«He’s heard worse.» He shrugs it off, but you don’t miss the quick, worried glance he sends the child, a soft, red glow touching his cheekbones when Grogu shots him a knowing look, tilting his round, peach fuzz covered head to the side.

«Adult things, buddy. Don’t mind us.»

The kid slowly blinks up at him, before huffing and going back at playing with his hand.

«Don’t.» Din nudges your side, perhaps feeling your smile widening against his arm.

«I didn’t say anything, did I?»

«I know you.» It’s all he says, before grabbing one of the coloured satin ribbons scattered all around the mattress and setting it on top of your head, chuckling softly when you move away and give him the dirtiest look you can manage.

«How about we finish, so we can finally eat and go to sleep?» He then says, a big grin still on his lips.

Old, you mouth towards your son, making him giggle.

*

Kid fast asleep and securely tucked away in his oval pod, you help your husband cleaning up your bunk for the night, smiling still at the beautiful memory of the three of you wrapping gifts for Life Day.

«And that’s the last of it, I hope» you sigh, lifting a hand to take off the satin bow still in your hair.

«Wait – he stops you, adjusting it with extreme care, pure adoration softening his chiselled traits when he looks at you. – You should keep it.»

«Are you subtly asking me to be your present, Din? Do you want to unwrap me yourself?» you tease in a whisper, your hands locking behind his neck and starting to idly play with the soft, short curls at its nape.

«Careful, Djarin – he gently warns, pressing the sweetest of kisses on your upper lip, his fingers digging your waist to press you flush against him. – I might take you on your word.»

«Please, do.»


End file.
